Astrid
"Okay, well, these theories can still work with hivemind theory too." Astrid replied. "I'm of a couple minds on it honestly, because that's all true, but so is what we saw at the Crucible. It's not formalized into different schools of thought, but there's the belief that Zets are individuals that get more intelligent through socialization, but it could also be the case that there are distinct hives." Astrid squinted, frowned, trying to put all this together was a strain on her. "Like... a person, you know, we're basically a hivemind of cells and organs and body parts. But we're isolated from other hiveminds around us—other people. Short of organ transfers, which are not only difficult but require specifically compatible parts. What if Zets were multiple different, competing hiveminds, maybe even with transferable parts?"
Astrid had been slowly sitting up as she spoke more and more, getting amped up, but as soon as she finished, she heaved out a huge sigh and fell backwards in bed. "But people like Vanleer don't believe shit because they won't admit to being wrong. The pride of the military is too important."
roaming, lurking, arguing
Tera
They stayed in the library for the next hour or so. Krys showed Tera some of the footage of Pullo's missions, with the young Tinkerer showing disconcerting excitement, when they reached the moment of the exo-suit combusting. After that, it had been a dive down the rabbit-hole of other suits, like the ATLAS, HAKON and more. By the time they had finished a truly spectacular mission-report of Lt. Drăgoi of the 3rd Order using the skull of a Zet-Warrior to bash in the face of a downed Knight, the librarian at the desk actually approached them and tipped on the clock.
"Lunchtime, boys. Gonna have to ask you to leave.", the old bear mumbled.
"Okay, no problem!" Krys stood up and turned the CPU off. "If you still have some time, Tera, I can show you my workplace. Currently repairing an EVA, so maybe you wanna take a look?", he offered his new friend.
"Unless you have other plans, of course."
Damon
Lt. Haluk looked at Damon, as they sat down, over his fingertips. When the veteran Warden shared his discomfort, the android nodded. "To be honest, I don't think this is a bad thing, Vanleer.", he admitted. "Our line of work is dangerous and losses are to be expected. We're going to bury many more comrades, then we are ever going to save. That is simply the ugly truth. So, you shouldn't feel bad about being able to stomach it better than others."
His eyelids clicked and the lenses retracted a tiny bit. The light in them growing a bit dimmer, showing that the Lt. did not feel comfortable with the next topic. "I assume, you already worked out that we are going to reassign you. Sergeant Hartmut has laid down his position, in favor of being assigned...somewhere else." He paused for a moment, clearly laying his next words carefully. Unusual, for an android, who could process at much faster speeds than organics.
"Negotiations about the recruits are still ongoing, but it is expected that the 7th will receive the majority. That leaves me with the task of organizing new squads and assigning new sergeants. One of which would be you, Vanleer."
He gave Damon a moment to digest this news, then continued. "You have served the Wardens for quite some time and while never really distinguishing yourself, you are a steady, calm pair of hands in a crisis, which in my mind is much more important than some big honors. Commander Wille agrees with me on that front."
He opened a drawer and pulled a copper pin in the shape of a seven. The sign of of a sergeant of the 7th order. "We will handle most of the datawork. I apologize for the lack of big ceremony, but you know how it is. Little time and plenty of work."
"Your squad is already assigned. I will send you the list of names shortly and get them assembled. You have a few hours to prepare and get to know them. I expect to have Squad 27 ready for their first mission by the end of the week."
Lt. Haluk stood up and held his palm up to where his heart would normally be, saluting Damon. "Congratulations on the promotion, Sergeant Vanleer."
Astrid
Jagoda leaned back and listened calmly, as Astrid explained her theory. She didn't interrupt or laugh, even when the cat-hybrid started to ramble a bit. At the end, she simply let her end and then thought about what she just heard.
"To be honest, this sounds...wild. Like, a lot like speculation, don't get me wrong. And if we hadn't just gone through this meatgrinder of a Crucible and seen those weird Zet a few days ago...I would probably not believe you.", she confessed. "However...if we think logically, this would explain a few things. Like, why the Zet attacked each other. Why the Teardrop-Knight looks so different from what we usually think Zet look like. And that thing it did at the end....like it was marking its territory."
The Tinkerer-girl mumbled, her brow furrowing as she contemplated all of this. "You might be on to something, Astrid.", she finally said. "Though, I'm not so sure if people like that Vanleer really disagree with you because of pride. I mean, you have to admit it does sound pretty wild, if we take your theory out of context."
Before they could continue however, the door swung open and Victoire stomped in. The mutant wore a sleeveless, tight shirt and some baggy pants. A functional attire, that nonetheless showed off her athletic, muscled figure. Her black hair fell down on the left side of her face, while being cut short on the right side. She was a bit shorter than Astrid. One could almost call her attractive, if she weren't a mutant.
She walked past her roommates and violently stuffed some items into the bag on her back, including a wrench and some other repair-tools. Jagoda blinked a bit, before shying away from the mutants glare. Victoire intimidated her, especially with that rough, combatative attitude.
"H-Hi, Victoire...", she greeted her timidly.
"Piss off, cogbrain.", snapped the mutant and continued to rummage around her belongings, clicking her rigid lips in evident anger. Something had upset her, clearly.
The Light That Blinds
Tera
Tera couldn't help but be...nervous, when they got to the combustion footage. And guilty, even though he hadn't been there. The fact that all but one of Mercury's pilots had died hung over his head like a raised blade.
After one hour, six minutes, and forty-two seconds of going through dozens of files and reports and videos, the librarian had to come over and outright tell them to leave.
"If you still have some time, I can show you my workplace," Krys said as they headed for the door. "Currently repairing an EVA, so maybe you wanna come take a look?"
Tera nodded. "I have the time."
Tera tilted his head. "This is your workplace?"
He was not sure what he had been expecting, but it was probably not this. The room was small, with a wooden desk in the center taking up half the space. Tools and blueprints were scattered across the desk and floor, and a small mattress was crammed into the corner with yet more papers lying on top of it.
Off to the side was what Tera presumed to be the EVA. It was in rather poor shape—the legs were mangled, the fingers were bent in ways fingers were probably not supposed to bend, and the entire chestplate was gone.
"Not in the best shape, I know," Krys admitted.
"Your room, or the suit?"
"Yes."
Tera walked up to the EVA and poked at it a bit. "What broke it?"
"What else? Zet." Krys headed over to the desk and picked up the blueprints, throwing them onto the mattress to make space. "Wolf-hybrid's suit. He charged in for glory, and, uh..." A pause. "Well, he's alive. Probably can't do field work ever again, but he's alive."
Tera simply nodded, not knowing what to say.
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
AI with access to the console
Vanleer
“Thank you sir although I feel a ceremony would not be necessary for such a low rank anyway how. I assume we will receive a scouting mission first as traditional, yes?
The real reason is Damon already knew no recruit would be ready for active combat with in a week of squad assignment.
“Anyway I should be going and organizing training exercises for this new squad, sir” said Damon as he stood up and left the office.
I look to the stars... but that's mostly because there isn't anything else interesting
"It's our superiors' responsibilities to know theory like this." Astrid replied, crossing her arms. "It's only fringe because it was declared to be so, I assure you." She'd go on, but Victoire stormed in, clearly mad. Mad enough to insult someone with... maybe a slur? She wasn't sure. It wasn't one of the things she kept track of.
"Not how we do this, Victoire." Astrid replied to the pissed mutant. This was either a play for attention or genuine and either way indulging her at least temporarily wouldn't hurt. "You tell me what's wrong."
Edited by Taco on Dec 16th 2020 at 8:36:55 AM
roaming, lurking, arguing
Tera
Krys' workshop was not much bigger than a small storage-room, really. Tucked away in some distant corner, past some winding hallways, it was a far cry from the big repair-stations or industrial forges that Tera had been expecting.
It also was a complete mess, with tools, scrap, data-pads and more cluttering almsot every free space. The small foam-mattress had oil-stains on it and was covered almost entirely in old books, crumple paper and blueprint-copies.
But what took up the most space was the exo-suit. An EVA, a medium suit that had been introduced about five years ago and had quickly become a staple among the Wardens. Tough, reasonably agile and with enough weight to allow many different loadouts, it had replaced the old ADAM as the go-to all-rounder.
Although, this one looked like it had been forced through a grinder. Extensive damage on the limbs, missing chestplate and even a broken shoulder-piston made it seem more suited for the scrapyard, than anything else.
Krys grinned, when he saw Tera's expression. "Doozy, I know. Thats what happens, if you try to pick a fight with three warriors in close-combat. Guy can be glad he actually survived.", he explained. "Dad gave me permission to tinker with it. Too damaged for conventional repair, owner is crippled and no longer serving and no other mechanic really wanted to have a crack at it."
"So, rather than just scrap it for parts, I can work on it instead. Who knows if I get it running again...would be amazing though."
He pointed at the missing chestplate. "You see those marks at the edge? Zet cut through the gaps there, damaged the hinges. They peeled him open like a can, to get at the flesh beneath." Indeed, there were several gashes, suggesting chitin blade had cut into it in order to break the plate off. "Can say a lot about Zet, but they can be nasty in a fight. They knew exactly where to aim at. That warrior probably had fought EVA-suits before..."
Krys rummaged through his things and then spilled a whole bunch of different tools onto the desk. Grabbing a holo-pad, he pointed the screen at the suit and let it run diagnostics. A load of red warning light appeared and he had to sift through them to finally focus on the relevant reports.
"Hmm...so yeah, most of the plates stripped off. Right glove has to be removed, too damaged. Left and right leg have broken struts, need to find replacement for that. Right shoulder is a goner too, drive-shaft broken, and circuits been fried, as well..."
He looked at Tera. "So...what do you think? Should I try to repair this...or rather scrap it and use the parts for my other projects?"
Astrid
"Not your fuckin' business!", snapped Victoire at Astrid, before punching a meld-cutter into her bag. The blade snapped out and pierced the fabric, tearing a hole into the overfilled bag.
Jagoda winced, as the mutant yelled in frustration and kicked the bunkbed. "Hey...you seem really upset. Maybe we can help?", she said, leaning forward a bit, but not daring to touch the angry woman.
Victoire breathed heavy, before sinking on her bed and digging one hand into her hair. "Sorry...just pissed off.", she said, grinding her teeth. Her rigid lips had been pulled into a frustrated scowl. "Just wanted to get my suit repaired. That bitch of a mechanic promised to get the job done by now, but she hasn't done scrap! Apparently other wardens are more important and bla bla bla...point is, my suit is still a pile of shit and I'm not gonna get it repaired in time for the squad-assigment."
"I get angry. She blows me off, I insult her and...well, now I can try to find another mechanic. Which, as you can probably guess, is gonna be one shit-pain in the ass, because the rest are busy and the one I had was the only one I found willing."
She looked at the bag. "I was gonna try and repair the suit myself. I've worked at a chop-shop before, so I know my way around machines."
"I...think that exo-suits are a bit more complicated than grav-drives.", said Jagoda.
"I fuckin' know that, okay!? You got any better idea? Why don't you try it? You Tinkerers are good at that kinda shit, ain't that so?"
The girl nervously scratched her temple, where her antennae stuck out. "I mean...I can try, but we aren't good at everything. So, I can't promise a miracle." She looked at the tools. "Besides, that still doesn't solve your problem with the mechanic. Maybe we should talk to her?"
Victoire sighed and stood up. "Be my guest. If you want to help, I won't stop you. Will even buy you dinner, if you do. That, and as an apology for shouting at you."
Damon
Lt. Haluk nodded. "We will send you the first mission over soon. Cmd. Wille is planning an extensive operation near the Leipzig Sprawl, so your squad will likely be assigned to that.", he explained.
"We're under tremendous pressure to perform, Vanleer. Fifth is breathing down our necks, want to be deployed into this region soon. Our researchers are still trying to classify the Zets we encountered there during the Crucible. Once they got their reports ready, you will get a briefing and can deploy."
With that Damon stood up and left the office. Outside, the other Wardens were waiting. Listig spotted his new badge and grinded his jaw, clearly not quite happy with that development. The others congratulated him, though, Markus patting his back. "About time, really. Was wondering if you pissed off the Commander.", he joked.
Damons data-pad pinged. On it was the new squad and the relevant information to the recruits under his wing.
Edited by TheNohen on Dec 18th 2020 at 4:16:05 PM
The Light That Blinds
Tera
As Krys told him exactly how damaged the EVA was, Tera nodded along. Occasionally, he gave a "mm-hm" or "uh-huh", though to be honest, he had no clue what half of the words meant. All he understood was that the damage to the EVA was very bad.
When Krys asked for his opinion, Tera studied the suit. Tilted his head. Frowned a little. Poked at it. Leaned in closer for a better look.
Then, he pulled away and shrugged. "I have no idea. I barely know how my own programming works, much less how to repair Exo-Suits."
...wait. "Is that normal?"
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
"Name them and I'll handle it." Astrid stated plainly. No reason to be upset with someone willing to be not only forthcoming, but solution-driven! Good work there. "Ideally I'd also like to know where they hang out. I might not look it but I'm ex-military, I know how negotiations work and I'm willing to put that to use, for a future squadmate."
Astrid's fist banged on the distinctive yellow doors of a mechanic's quarters—Victoire's pissed off mechanic. Even if she hadn't decided to try and mend this rift, talking to them would probably be a good next step. Getting both sides of any dispute could be rewarding. She could hear movement on the other side of the door, but Victoire's own briefing wasn't much for her to work on. All of it was weighted with rightful anger, and it wouldn't be too useful.
Edited by Taco on Dec 29th 2020 at 11:33:19 AM
AI with access to the console
Vanleer
As Damon entered into his former squads quarters and now his squads quarters. It only took a minute of glancing to realize that the area was now less decorated. Perhaps it was a distraction or maybe Damon truly couldn't feel much, but he decided to head out and see about making the quarters more livable.
As Damon walked down the steps into the former shops and tunnels of his last trade. He arrived at a familiar shop door. A sign was over head “Simon's luxuries”.
As, Damon stepped into the shop.
“Hey, Simon how've you been doing!”
Edited by Immortalartisan on Jan 2nd 2021 at 12:20:34 PM
I look to the stars... but that's mostly because there isn't anything else interesting
roaming, lurking, arguing
Damon
Simon Luntgard was a man in his fifties. His black hairline already began receding and the right side of his face had a deep, nasty gash in it. He always liked to say, that he had gotten the scar from the last Zet that ever assaulted the Wall. What kind of Zet seemed to change with every re-telling. First it had been an Imp, later on a Warrior and by now it turned out it had been a Knight with six arms and an acid-cannon on its back.
"Vanleer! Decided to finally show your face again, huh? The great Warden honoring my little shitbowl. Did you run out of adult-diapers, or why are you here?", he snarked, a crooked grin parting his lips. He stepped around his counter, his rusty, prosthetic leg screeching in protest, as he hobbled over to Damon and shook his hand.
"I've been doing fine, thank you. Saga's doing good as well.", he answered Damons question and pointed at the old, ginger cat that was sleeping peacefully on her pillow in the corner. Cats were popular in the Wall, partially out of necessity, because of the rats infesting the lower levels.
Simon leaned against his counter, took a small oil-bottle and applied a few drops to his knee. "So, what do you want?", he asked.
Astrid
They had to walk for twenty minutes or so to reach the workshop. While the hallways were usually busy, even where they were sleeping, the levels where the forges and workshops were housed, were filled with a cacophony of sounds and smells. Metal being cut and hammered, sparks flying through open doors, music blasting at high volume in an attempt to drown out the noise and everything reeked of oil, heat and sweat.
Victoire and Jagoda were with Astrid, the latter having to be pulled away from snooping into other garages multiple times. As Astrid pounded the yellow door, they could hear heavy steps. As the door opened with a hiss, they stood before a stocky Tinkerer-woman in her sixties. She barely reached up to Astrids shoulder, had her grey hair shaved to a stubble and wore a stained, grimy overall. Her right arm had been replaced by a ill-fitting prosthetic, which seemed to have been made for someone twice her size.
"What'cha want?", she asked curtly, her dark eyes glaring up to Astrid, as if she dared the cat-hybrid to do something stupid. Then she spotted Victoire and her face twisted into a scowl. "You again? I told ya to piss off, mutie!"
Victoire took a step forward, clearly incensed.
Tera
Krys looked at Tera a bit confused, before shrugging his shoulder. "No clue. Didn't your parents teach you about that?", he asked. Then he saw Tera's look and winced. "Oooh...sorry, about that. Didn't want to poke any open wounds."
A bit of awkward silence followed, until the boy cleared his throat. "Well, I would try to repair it. If nothing else, it will be fun! And hey, if I actually get it back into shape, my dad might allow me to work on the bigger projects!", he said, with a grin.
He cracked his knuckles. "I'm gonna try and link up for this. No other way I can think of, that would help with that pile of junk. If you wanna help, that would be great." He flashed Tera a big grin. "Let's do this!"
Krys raised one hand and touched his mental-cables. A moment passed by, where nothing happened. Then the cables suddenly began to spark violently and the young Tinkerer shuddered and spasmed. His eyes rolled up into his head and his prosthetic limbs twitched. Smoke came out of his scalp, where the cables heated up to a worrying degree.
"WOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!" Krystyn howled in delight and his head snapped back violently, a manic grin on his face. He rushed towards his workstation, grabbed tools and a blowtorch and whirled around on one foot to look at Tera. His pupils were dilated and his dirty-blonde hair stood up, like he had been electrified.
"Letsdothis, Tera! Ineedplasmacutterandtwonewpistonsandboxfullofscraps! Stripthissuckerdownandletsgettowork!" The boy exploded in a whirl of activity, as he rushed past the android, crashed into a bench, recovered and speeded back to the workbench.
As he stood before the broken EVA, Krys activated the blowtorch with a giggle. His eyes staring at the blue flame in utter fascination, before he started to cut through the plates and strip them off, without even bothering with any kind of protection, as the spark went flying.
Edited by TheNohen on Jan 3rd 2021 at 12:24:43 PM
The Light That Blinds
Tera
Ah. Tera swallowed a bit. He still knew nothing about his creator, or the circumstances of why he was made. Did other androids know that sort of thing? Krys had mentioned a while ago that they usually deleted those memories to make space, but...
His head tilted. Link up? What did that...
Suddenly, Krys started twitching and spasming, mental cables sparking like they were about to catch fire. Tera's eyes widened, and he took a few steps forward. "Krys?! What's going on?! Should I get someone?!" Was this some sort of seizure?! What were the procedures for that? Er, something something, keep away sharp objects, something something, look at your watch, something something—
"GAH!" Tera jumped back when Krys suddenly screamed, looking like he'd gone absolutely insane, and dashed over to his workstation. "K-Krys? Are you okay?" Krys whirled around, giving him that manic grin.
"Letsdothis, Tera! Ineedplasmacutterandtwonewpistonsandboxfullofscraps! Stripthissuckerdownandletsgettowork!"
...
Tera blinked. "What?"
His confusion quickly turned to terror as Krys turned on the blowtorch without protection and started cutting through the EVA. "KRYS NO THAT'S DANGEROUS!" he shrieked, scrambling over to the Tinkerer and trying to wrest away the blowtorch.
"Nonoeverything'sjustfinenoneedtoworry!"
"IT IS DEFINITELY NOT FINE!"
"Igotthis!"
"WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING—?!"
There was a soft fwoosh. Krys stopped, staring at Tera's hand. Which was on fire.
Ah. That might be a problem.
Then, Krys shrieked and scrambled over to the bed, tossing papers aside to find...something. "OHMYGODI'MSOSORRYIDIDN'TMEANTHATOHGOD—" He grabbed a somewhat scorched looking blanket and ran back over to Tera, flinging the blanket over his hand.
The flames smothered quickly. There was an awkward silence.
Then, Tera pointed to the blanket. "Is this what's referred to as a 'fire blanket'?"
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
Astrid extended a foot to block the door before the thought of closing it had even come up. Hybrids and Mutants needed to watch out for one another out here, but the game was that you couldn't show how you chafed under the boot. Normally. Normally you had to shut down the fight and flight responses, freeze instead of either. Normally. She had to savor this freedom from her squadmates' pearl-clutching while she still had it.
"Uncalled for, Toaster." Astrid placed her hand on the door, which had opened towards her. She openly scowled at the woman. "Seems you're familiar with Victoire. Something about deprioritizing the uh, what was the word, the Mutie."
Astrid saw the woman draw breath. A syllable. A "Th." This was a blitz though. Just like a raid, though she knocked in this case.
"I AM NOT DONE." Astrid didn't shout, she simply spoke, but louder, drawing attention to where she still stood on the doorstep. No exclamation points. "What's happening here that you're deprioritizing a Warden about to be assigned a squad? Strikes me as hi-importance."
roaming, lurking, arguing
Luntgards Cornershop
Damon scratched his chin and looked around. Simon's shop was a claustrophic, overstuffed closet, by all acounts. Shelfs buckled under the load of a thousands of different products, put on without any sense of organization or sense. Cans with Prot-Maggots, grilled crickets, metal-scraps and dried oil stood next to disassembled pistols, silencers, half a an exo-suit arm and several bottles of Holler. Old Trid-videos, bootlegged games and several books, so old the pages had begun to turn yellow shared their space with cat-food, rat-poison and an empty power-core.
"Do the Wardens know you're selling off suit-pieces?", mused Damon and pointed at the exo-suit. Simon leered at him and shrugged. "They haven't busted the door down yet. Why? You gonna tattle on me?", he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Damon looked at him and considered it for a moment. But there was nothing to gain from losing one of his black-market contacts, so he dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. "No, that would be bad business.", he said and forced a smile. "A joke, Simon."
"Yeaah...." Simon wasn't buying it and Damon couldn't blame him. He was awful at lying or feigning humor.
"I was thinking about purchasing some VR-data from you. Something to train, while not as tame as the official training-vids.", he changed the subject.
Luntgard scratched his scar and stroked his cat. "Hmm...I may have some recordings that could help you. Snatched them from canned suits, while they were hosing out the poor sods that died in them.", he mentioned and rummaged around below the counter.
Damon was now slightly worried. "Nothing that could cause bio-feedback, Simon."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not stupid. I'm not like one of the cogheads, that needs to burn his synapses off for another kick." He surfaced again and put six data-chips on the counter. "They have a kick to them, but should do nicely as simulations. Just cut off the end of the feed and you'll be fine."
Damon nodded and slotted in his stick into the AT-machine on the counter. A second later, his bank-account was a hundred marks lighter. Black-market products weren't cheap. Still, it would make for a good training-session.
Astrid
The old woman leaned a bit back, as Astrid got in her face. A look to the side showed she considered slamming the door shut, but the hybrid stopped that by stepping halway into the workshop. Unless the Tinkerer planned to cut her foot off, she would not get the door closed.
"Hi-Importance?", she repeated, snorting derisively. "Don't get full of yourself, kitty. Ah got some actual projects lyin' around. That's why Ah told yer mutie-friend there, I'm busy."
"You're lying!", snarled Victoire.
The women just laughed, barking almost. "Don't believe me? Fine, I'll show ya!" She turned around and let them in.
The workshop was surprisingly spacious. There was an area to the right, where three suits were strapped in some repair-platforms, ready to be stripped and put back together. To the left was a inactive forge, which had only recently turned off and still glowed from the heat, that was used to melt down and rework metal. A rest-area was in the back, which consisted off a tiny kitchen, a small bed and a table with a screen on it. A door led to the bathroom.
In the workshop were two assistant, one of them a male Tinkerer, with a bald head and metal spine poking out of his back and artifical legs, and the other one being a baseline human mechanic, with oily, black hair. Both looked up confused, as they had been busy repairing a heavy ATLAS exo-suit, whose shoulder-cannon had been heavily damaged, as evident by the half-molten gun-head.
The Tinkerer-woman turned around and gestured at the platforms. Aside from the ATLAS, there was also a MAUS. These black-plated beasts were almost half a head taller than an ATLAS and absolutely loaded with armor-plates. It usually was outfitted with a shield, as well, making them tanky frontline-suits, perfect for weathering enemy-fire and providing cover for allies. This MAUS looked undamaged, but had its back stripped off and opened and several rocket-boosters laid next to it, with a mess of cables sticking out of the open back.
Lastly, there was Victoires yellow DRAGON, which was still in the same sorry state, back from when it wa sbrought in. "You didn't even touch it!", she noted angrily.
The women rolled her eyes. "'Cause Ah've been busy. As ye can see, they dumped two big ones on me.", she explained and gestured towards the two heavy-suits. "Big shots, too. Can't let senior wardens wait for some green rookie."
Tera
Both boys stood there for a moment, panting. Krys stared at Tera's slightly blackened, but otherwise unharmed, fingers, while Tera stared at the blanket thats smoldered to his feet.
"Ehm..yes, that is a fire-blanket.", answered Krys, slowly coming down from his high. "So so sorry about this, Tera. I tend to get a bit...enthusiastic when I link up. Dad warned me not to get carried away."
The boy grimaced, before he realized he still had the blowtorch on. He quickly turned it off. "Right...ehm...safety first and all.", he said lamely, before pulling out some fire-proof gloves and overalls from a dusty corner and gave Tera a face-mask, too.
"Okay, so...I need a plasma-cutter from the third shelf, second row at the bottom. There should two extra-pistons lying around too, that should fit as replacement for the damaged ones. Oh, and the box full of scrap in the corner." He stopped, before turning to Tera and giving him an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, but we better start, as long as I still have the link going. Don't worry, I got it under control now.", he assured the android, before turning around and using the blowtorch again.
Krys stared once again mesmerized into the blueish flame, before Tera cleared his throat audibly behind him and the boy remembered to pull the mask down on his face. Soon, sparks began to fly....
Edited by TheNohen on Jan 15th 2021 at 10:37:51 AM
The Light That Blinds
Tera
"It's fine," Tera said, rubbing the soot off his fingers as Krys stammered our apologies. "I've lived through worse."
"Right...ehem." Krys turned off the blowtorch and headed off to a corner, picking up a set of dusty clothes. "Safety first, and all." He threw an odd-looking metal mask Tera's way, which bounced off his face and landed on the floor.
"Is this fireproof?" Tera asked, pointing to the mask.
"Yeah. Sorry I'm already right back to doing this, but we might as well get going while I'm still linked. Don't worry!" Krys hastily added, seeing Tera's expression. "I've got it under control. Neither of us are gonna burn alive!"
"I hope not."
"Okay, so...I need a plasma-cutter from the third shelf, second row at the bottom. And there should be two extra-pistons lying around that should fit as replacement for the damaged ones. Oh, and the box full of scrap in the corner."
Tera nodded, heading over to the shelves. He picked up what he was pretty sure was the plasma-cutter, two things that looked like pistons, and the box of scrap, the only thing he recognized. He turned to bring all this stuff over and saw that Krys had turned on the blowtorch.
Again.
"Ahem."
"Oh, right, sorry." Krys pulled the face-mask down. Tera brought over the supplies he'd requested, then stood back to watch him work.
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
Astrid squinted. Was there something going on? She had to take this deliberately then. She smiled gently. "You ah, you're making it hard for me to believe you that these are senior operators' suits." Astrid said. She jerked her head at the suits. "They're in great condition for the suits of professional, long-term asskickers. That and calling someone a slur, Toaster. If you were really a valorous bigot you'd say it with your chest instead of hiding behind the rules of some hierarchy you realistically don't have much stake in." Astrid stepped toward the door. She didn't think the woman would bolt or anything, but blocking exits was a go-to Power Move to lean on someone with.
roaming, lurking, arguing
Astrid
The elderly Tinkerer glared at Astrid and raised an eyebrow. "My, my, aren't ya high and mighty. Took psychology 101, or somethin'?", she mocked her and shook her head.
"Ya kids these days are all on about politeness. Ya weren't here, when we had to keep this Wall runnin' and workin' during the Siege. Ya didn't lose fathers and mothers and siblings and kept goin' anyway.", she ranted and pushed a finger against Astrids chest. "So, don't yammer on about bigotry and other imagined shit and do yer job instead, like Ah do mine."
She huffed and turned around. Her assistants glared at Astrid now, clearly annoyed that she was making a scene and keeping them from their work. Their boss just waved her hand and the two went back to work on the MAUS. "As for the suits, not every Warden lets their armor look like shit. Some of them actually take care of them, eh mutie?"
Victoire grit her teeth, but didn't rise to the provocation. Jagoda now cleared her throat and stepped forward. "If you get these two suits done, would you repair Victoires then?"
The old mechanic rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Obviously. Not gonna let it sit. Just can't prioritize it. As Ah mentioned.", she gave Astrid an angry look, at the last sentence.
"We know, we know. How about...how about I lend you a hand? Would it then go faster?", offered Jagoda.
The old mechanic eyes her suspiciously. "Ye a mechanic?"
The young woman grimaced. "Not really, but I could link up and—"
"Hell no, forget it! Not gonna happen, young'un.", protested the Tinkerer and shook her head. "Ah'm not gonna permit ya to fry yer brain for shit ya barely understand. Commander would have ma head, if ye blow something in yer brain!"
Jagoda had expected as much, but still looked a bit dejected. She turned to Astrid and shrugged. "I tried...sorry."
Victoire wasn't happy, at all. "But I can't just remain without a suit! You want me to die out there?"
"Ya not gonna die. There are practice-suits for trainin' and ya sergeant would be hella stupid, if he gets ya on a mission within a week.", assured the mechanic. "How about some patience, girl? Would do wonders...for both of ya." She looked at Astrid again, with a slight grin.
Tera
Soon, sparks were flying. A whirlwind of activity unfurled in the small workshop, with Krys quickly and methodically stripping the exo-suit down to its skeleton and dumping and more broken or useless parts on a pile. What couldn't be safely removed, was cut away with the plasma-cutter, leaving hot drops of liquid metal to drop onto the floor below, hissing when it made contact with the cold boards.
Tera was sucked into this frantic, manic energy almost by accident, with Krys yelling out instructions or demanding tools or scraps almost every ten seconds. The young boy grinning wide behind his mask and giggling creepily, whenever he used the blowtorch or the cutter.
"Six-ender, please."
"Wrong one, try on the topshelf to your left!"
"Now a 45er nub. Scratch that, 46er instead. Actually, nevermind, back to the 45er."
"Should be a hammer down there. Yeah, that big one. Hit that joint a few times."
"No, those are shoulder-pistons for a Geist. Need bigger ones!"
"BURN BUUUUUUUUURN!!! Ahem.....sorry, got carried away..."
....
After more than an hour of exhausting work, several cut fingers and at least one close call with the plasma-cutter, they were finally finished. Before them stood the EVA...well, something that resembled it, at least. The shoulder-joint had been hammered into the place, one leg was slightly too small and the armor-plates, they had put on, looked like they were held together by glue.
Still, Krys grinned proudly and chuckled a bit, while ruffling his soot-stained hair with his hands. "Wow...what a mess!", he laughed. "I would call that a resounding failure!"
He didn't seem dejected and instead patted Tera on the shoulder, with his bandaged hand. "Thanks for the help, man.", he said, sincerely.
Edited by TheNohen on Jan 22nd 2021 at 12:34:11 PM
The Light That Blinds
Tera
After one hour, twelve minutes, and forty-two seconds of dashing to and fro, fro and to, grabbing bits and bobs and all sorts of things that Krys needed, they were finally done fixing the EVA.
The results?
Tera stared at the suit in silence. His head tilted. "I don't think we did it right," he said.
"Wow!" Krys chirped, grinning at the mess they'd made. "I'd call that a resounding failure!"
"We definitely didn't do it right." Tera frowned, eyes turning downward. "Sorry I wasn't very helpful."
"Oh, no, it's fine!" Krys reached up and patted him on the shoulder, still grinning. "I'm really grateful, actually. If you hadn't been here, this would've taken far longer and—"
The distant sound of (oddly familiar) shouting cut him off. Krys stopped smiling, clearly confused. "What was that?"
Tera thought for a few moments, then he blinked in realization. "Victoire."
"Who's Victoire?"
"A friend. I met her during the Crucible. She sounds mad. I wonder why." A pause, then Tera headed to the door. "I'm gonna go find out." He pushed open the door and started walking down the hallway. Krys dashed after him, calling out, "Hey! Tera! Wait up!"
The two of them walked for several minutes before reaching a yellow door, which the shouting seemed to be coming from. Tera knocked on the door two times and asked, "May we come in?"
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
Astrid squinted. She sighed. She knew when to take an L. The more important thing was that they asserted themselves. This could potentially even all be a front. You never knew. She couldn't afford to blow up on a mechanic too much though, and more importantly if you gracefully took an L you could still be in control.
"Well done. You—" Astrid jumped at the door knocking and took a few deliberate steps to not look like she was blocking the door before she opened it. More efforts to hold control, honestly, not waiting for the proprietor to welcome her in. Holy shit though, Tera! It'd been a hot minute. She raised her eyebrows. "Nice to see you, Tera. Yes, Victoire's been a little bit of a handful. Not without justification though. Have you had trouble with logistics yourself recently or are you good?"
The Light That Blinds
Tera
"Hello, Astrid," Tera said, entering the workshop. He waved at Jagoda, then Victoire, then the mechanic lady he assumed was using this workshop. "Hello, everyone else."
Krys slowly followed him in, staring wide-eyed at...well, everything, really. "Awesome," he whispered. "Could you imagine getting to work here? I would give my last limb for that."
"Please don't cut off your limbs," Tera murmured—ah, wait, Astrid had asked a question, hadn't she? Turning to her, he said, "As far as I know, things are fine. Though Krys said I might not get to pilot Mercury again, given how much damage it—"
"Why're you even here?" Victoire cut in, looking incredibly grumpy over something. "And—who's he?" She pointed to Krys, who looked somewhere between surprised and confused.
Tera was getting good at figuring out emotions.
"Victoire, this is Krys," he said. "He's a Tinkerer and helps fix Exo-Suits. Krys, this is Victoire. She's a Warden recruit."
"Victoire?" Krys tilted his head a bit. "The one who was shouting earlier?"
"Wh—" Victoire's eyes flashed, and she turned to glare at the Tinkerer. "I sent my Exo-Suit in for repairs ages ago and it hasn't been touched, okay?! I have every right to be mad!"
"I-I wasn't trying to accuse you!" Krys said hurriedly, holding his hands up and backing away. "I'm just an innocent bystander! Don't shoot me!"
"What makes you think I'd shoot you?! I don't even have a damn gun!"
"You just seem like the kind of person who would!"
"What the hell does that—"
"Both of you," Tera cut in, voice unusually hard. "Quit it." There was a brief awkward silence.
Then, Krys shrugged. "Well, if Tera likes you, I guess I can like you too." He grinned and held out his hand. "Krystyn Novak, but my friends call me Krys. Nice to meet you!"
Victoire stared at his hand for three seconds, then sighed and shook it. "Nice to meet you too, I guess."
Edited by LilyTheLitten on Jan 31st 2021 at 7:29:30 AM
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
roaming, lurking, arguing
As Victoire and Krys were shaking hands, there was a brief awkward silence. It was only interrupted when the Tinkerer-woman cleared her throat behind them. "Well that's nice and all, but mah workshop isn't a darn leisure hall. So, if ye got nothin' else to bother me with, do a favor and scram!", she snarled and waved at them with her massive, prosthetic hand.
"B-But my suit..." started Victoire, but Jagoda just laid a hand on her shoulder snd shook her head. The mutant visibly ground her teeth but relented. Her fists were clenched, as she clearly wanted to punch something.
Krys himself looked more curious about this whole thing than anything else. He walked up to the DRAGON hanging in its restraint and examined it, ignoring the mechanics nearby, who clearly gave him the stinkeye for invading their workspace.
"Can Ah help you, boy?"
"Well...I mean, this doesn't look too bad. Maybe replace some armor-plates, some wires, buff it out...not sure, why it should longer than maybe...two or three days?" he mused, looking at the damage.
The women scowled and shoved him away from the exo-suit. "Ah'm not gonna repeat mahself three thousand times! Ah'm busy with other stuff and—"
"Well, then why not let me take care of it?" interrupted Krys, looking at her with big, innocent eyes. "I mean, I'm still learning, but I'm pretty sure even I can repair this much."
"Ah don't think—"
"You serious?" Victoire stepped up, in her eyes now a glimmer of hope. The grumpy Tinkerer-woman summarily ignored. "I have to get it ready for squad-assignment."
"Is that today? Ehm...I mean, probably not. But I could get it done the day after tomorrow." Krys squeaked when Victoire grabbed his hands and slammed her left hand on his shoulder several times.
"Splendid!", she cheered, before turning to the woman. "And fuck you!"
The woman glared at her and huffed. "Alright, that's it. Get out of mah workshop, before Ah shoot some holes in your thankless skulls!" She raised her mechanical arm and her hand unfolded itself into a giant shovel, which she used to ferry them rudely out of the room.
"W-Wait, what about...would you send it over to my—" Krys tried to get a word in, but the door was slammed in his face.
Then it opened a few seconds later and Victoire's DRAGON was dumped unceremoniously into the hallway, collapsing before their feet. Krys scratched his hair and giggled nervously. "Well...so much about that. Guess, I'm taking care of this now."
"Thanks, kid.", said Victoire and helped him get the heavy exo-suit up. She then hesitated a second, before turning to Astrid and Jagoda. "And you too, for the help. Sorry for the trouble...ehm...round is on me if we get into the bar at some point."
The Light That Blinds
Tera
There were seven seconds of silence after they (and Victoire's suit) were forced out of the room. To be quite honest, Tera didn't know what to do now. The problem had been solved, which was good, but it didn't leave much for them to discuss.
So he decided to simply ask, "What do we do next?"
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
All's well that ends well. For all she knew, the other mechanic knew Krys was nearby and able to help, and just wanted to squirm. Astrid wasn't fucking with that possibility. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "Sounds like drinks are on you now. You should get the suit on a rack and hit the bar. We've got a little time to burn, wheels to spin." That thing at their feet had potential. She didn't get a chance to see it in the Crucible, aside from the clusterfuck at the end, but a brawl like that didn't count. "Let's hope we all get assigned together."
roaming, lurking, arguing
They helped transport Victoire's suit to Krys' small workshop, after which they said goodbye to the boy and headed to the nearest bar. One of the constants in human civilization was the abundance of alcohol and Rungholt was no exception. The production of spirits and beer remained active and widespread in the city, with the Wall being known for particularly strong drinks like Stumbras, Akvavit, or even the infamous Kochschnaps. Hybrids liked their drinks strong and with a high percentage, after all.
But before they reached the nearest drinking hole, their data-pads lit up. The squad-assignments were out. And it looked like, they had been assigned to Squad 27 together, headed by Sgt. Vanleer.
"Wait...wasn't that the warden back at the Crucible?", asked Victoire, as she scrolled through the message. "You know, the one that picked us up, Tera."
"Seems like it. I guess, they promoted a few after the recent losses. And we're supposed to meet him in Hall B234-C for introductions and...training? Thought, we were done with that," mentioned Jagoda. Then she looked at the squad-list. "Weird...one place is empty."
"Not surprising. They likely gonna shuffle some of us around or add someone. I heard that some squads can be as big as ten if needed," explained Victoire.
Hall B234-C was situated several levels below the barracks and workshops, just above the base levels of the Wall. Here, civilian life was more prevalent and Bear-Hybrids, who already dominated large parts of this section, were obviously in charge. The change in tone from the Warden-levels was noticeable.
Clan-Markings were more prevalent and the tunnels and hallways were now filled with people. Most were on their way to factories or other jobs or were getting home after their shifts. Children ran through the crowd, many wearing colored scarves and metal pins of Wallwar-teams. A nearby Community-Room was bustling with noise, cheers, and groans as a sizable crowd watched the latest game. From the looks of it, the Eastern Red Tails were beating the local Blackfur Barbarians quite soundly.
Finally, they reached Hall B234-C. It used to be an entertainment-complex before the Wardens acquired it and one could still see the VR-cells and holo-screens on the left side. The right side had been cleared out, with mats placed over the cold, metal floor and cordoned off by a small barrier. In the back were weights, benchpresses, and cardio-bots. A small space was reserved for taking a rest, with a small fridge filled with refreshments nearby and some tables and chairs.
Sitting on one of the chairs was Sgt. Vanleer. He looked tired, though that likely was his natural look, as his blue eyes were downcast and slightly clouded. His black hair was tied into a small pony-tail and his black beard was braided, which gave him a stylized warrior look. His left arm was a green-plated cybernetic, which held a data-pad and seemed to read something. He looked up when they entered the room.
"Ah, you're here. Good.", she said and stood up. "Sgt. Damon Vanleer, and I am your new commanding officer. Welcome, Squad 27." He saluted them. "I read your profiles, so no need for an extended introduction."
He then looked over their shoulders. "Besides...we're still missing someone."
The Light That Blinds
Tera
"I believe so," Tera said, reading over the squad-assignment. Astrid, Jagoda, me, Victoire...hm. "Gard's not on the list. I guess he's been assigned somewhere else."
And with that, they were off to Hall B234-C.
...that name was a bit unnecessarily long.
It was definitely the same Warden. His hair was tied back in a small ponytail, and his beard was braided for some reason. Tera thought that looked really odd, but didn't say anything. He got the feeling that saying something would be rude.
"Hello," Tera said, waving at the sergeant. "Who are we waiting on?"
"Kept me waiting, haven’t you? Tch. No matter. Dawdle all you’d like. In the end, your defeat remains inevitable."
Vanleer
Damon felt a strange sense of peace that always came with squad reassignments. Although now it felt like a betrayal of common decency to move on from people’s death that easily.
“Honestly I’ve done fine, sir”
The comfort from the chair felt awkward and undeserved by a him. The deaths of friends that granted he had only known for a relatively short time. Hit much deeper as one of those survivors was someone who had to of felt much sorrow.
“And personally I don’t believe I should be doing so fine, but anyway what did you need today sir?”
Edited by Immortalartisan on Dec 1st 2020 at 1:54:50 AM
I look to the stars... but that's mostly because there isn't anything else interesting